


Not So Different

by valbino



Category: Naruto
Genre: M/M, Non-Explicit Sex, Slash
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-07-03
Updated: 2012-07-03
Packaged: 2017-11-09 02:32:31
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 640
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/450294
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/valbino/pseuds/valbino
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"Do you ever wonder if we're in the wrong business?" Oneshot.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Not So Different

**Author's Note:**

> Possibly the closest thing to a lemon I will ever write.
> 
> Enjoy!

"Do you ever wonder if we're in the wrong business?"

Itachi paused in his pacing to look at Kisame.

"I mean, bounty hunting's pretty lucrative."

Itachi shrugged. He was oiling a kunai in his thorough, careful way. He continued to pace.

Kisame stretched and popped his neck, causing the makeshift bench to shift a little. "Think about it. No rules, no allegiances, bringing your target in alive won't matter so long as they're recognizable."

"What comes after, though?" Itachi murmured. He set the weapon on one of the racks and picked a different one up.

"I don't know."

Kisame watched Itachi walk. It seemed aimless, but the positioning of his feet was such that if someone ambushed him, he could easily shift his weight and throw the attacker off. Even at rest, in a safe location, Itachi was never at ease.

Itachi noticed. "What?"

"Nice footwork, Itachi-san."

Itachi stopped in his tracks. He looked a bit unsure of himself, like he had never received such a compliment in his life. He seemed to consider what Kisame said, weighing it against some internal standard. Then, finally:

"Thank you, Kisame."

"No problem. Where'd you learn to walk like that?"

"ANBU. You always had to be on your guard. Attack could happen at a moment's notice. I guess...I never broke that habit."

"Heh. Yeah, old habits die hard."

Itachi watched Kisame at ease as he paced. Kisame's weapon, Samehada, was always within arm's reach. His eyes darted around the room. The shifting around served as distraction.

"Well played." Itachi's mouth quirked up in a blink-and-you-miss-it smirk.

"Come again?"

"You are no more relaxed than I am."

"Yeah, I picked up some nice espionage tactics when I did that stuff. Don't use it much now, but like I said...old habits die hard." He grinned, baring his sharp teeth. "We're not so different, you and I."

"I suppose not." Itachi put away that weapon and picked up a _wakizashi_ , sitting next to Kisame on the bench.

They watched each other in silence. Itachi placed the shortsword on the floor along with his cleaning tools. Kisame sat up straighter. Itachi swallowed.

Kisame watched his throat move, adam's apple bobbing. Itachi's collar bones stuck out from the rest of his body.

Itachi folded his hands in his lap and stared at Kisame's larger ones. Long fingers, callused in the palms. Ring on the third finger of his left hand. Itachi's own ring was a mirror of that. Their thighs were touching, he noted. He wanted their legs to be closer.

So he edged a little closer. Testing. Seeing what Kisame did.

Kisame smirked. He nudged back.

They were two lions, circling each other.

Waiting for someone to make the first move.

Itachi allowed their arms to brush together. Kisame's elbow jabbed his side, playfully.

Itachi very gingerly rested his head on Kisame's bare shoulder. He wondered what having gills felt like.

Kisame chuffed. So he was amused by this.

Kisame's hand touched Itachi's knee lightly.

The lions circled closer.

Itachi moved.

He took Kisame's hand with his own and moved it higher up on his thigh.

"So that's what you're getting at." A wicked smirk was plastered on Kisame's face.

"So?"

"Our relationship needed upgrading anyway," he said, shrugging.

Itachi closed the gap between their mouths, and Kisame returned the kiss with enough force that he nicked Itachi's upper lip with one of his teeth.

Itachi's hands explored what lay beneath Kisame's shirt. Kisame's tongue explored the landscape of Itachi's neck.

Somehow, dizzily, they made it to one of the bedrooms littered about the safe house.

A sharp breath.

A low moan.

Hands guiding hands.

An experimental touch here, a tug of the hair there.

Mouths seeking new skin to mark.

They stared at each other, after, and neither was sure which lion had won.


End file.
